


Community Dream

by ladyhoneydarlinglove



Series: What We Know (And What We Don't) [3]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyhoneydarlinglove/pseuds/ladyhoneydarlinglove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is picked to host the monthly Night Vale Community Dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Community Dream

**Author's Note:**

> prompt; dream

Carlos wakes one morning to find a letter on his pillow, which upon being opened informs him that he has been selected to host the monthly Night Vale Community Dream. It’s only six, because Carlos tends to rise early, so he decides to wait until eight to call Cecil. But when Carlos enters the kitchen there’s a two-headed squirrel on his windowsill.

“Hello?” comes Cecil’s bourbon smooth voice from the other end of the line when Carlos, sweaty and panting and resignedly sitting on a bench in Mission Grove Park with an empty trap, finally calls him a little past eleven.

“Hi, Cecil. I’m not calling for personal reasons,” Carlos pants. “And uh, sorry if I sound winded, I was just trying to capture a two-headed squirrel, and it—Well, anyway, um, I got a letter this morning informing me that I’ve been chosen to host the monthly Night Vale Community Dream. And I was wondering what exactly that is, and what it entails.”

“Oh! Haven’t you ever hosted a Community Dream before?” Cecil asks.

“No. They um, weren’t really a thing, where I’m from,” Carlos answers.

“How awful!” Cecil says. “Community Dreams are such a wonderful way to bring people together; why, I remember when I was only ten, Old Woman Josie—”

“Cecil,” Carlos says, and Cecil pauses. Carlos can see Cecil’s pink tinged cheeks without him even there.

“Sorry. Well, the Community Dream is when you have a dream, and it’s broadcast to everyone in Night Vale. Think of it like a movie, but one that you create in your mind.”

“Ah.” Carlos bites his lip. “That sounds… rather complicated.”

“Oh, not at all!” Cecil chirps. “You just have to think of an interesting dream—family-friendly, of course—and it only has to be five minutes long. Of course, if you want to make it longer you can, and if the City Council doesn’t find your dream sufficiently entertaining you might find yourself detained in the abandoned mine shaft. But that hasn’t happened in two years now!”

“Oh, Christ.” Carlos pinches the bridge of his nose. “How am I supposed to make sure that my dream is interesting enough?”

“Personally, I would recommend something along the lines of a nature show,” Cecil suggests. “Historically speaking, no one who has dreamed about animals has ever been detained. It shouldn’t be too hard, I’m sure a scientist like you knows all about animals!”

“But how am I supposed to make sure that I dream about animals?” Carlos asks. “It’s not like I can control my dreams.”

There’s a pause. “You can’t?” Cecil asks, bewildered.

“Well… No,” Carlos says. “Can you?”

“Of course. Dream control is a mandatory class for all Night Vale High freshman.”

“Oh. Well, um, it wasn’t where I went to school,” Carlos explains. “So, I have no idea how to control my dreams.”

“Oh. Oh, dear. I suppose that would make it rather difficult.” In his mind, Carlos can see Cecil tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his mouth. “How interesting are your dreams normally?”

“Last night I had a dream that there were tiny sharks swimming in my cereal bowl,” Carlos offers. “And then I was in my cereal bowl and I had to hold on to a Cheerio to keep from drowning.”

“Well, that sounds interesting!” Cecil says, his voice brightening. “Unconventional, but very neat! Are all your dreams like that?”

Carlos considers. “Most of them,” he admits. “Once I dreamt about a dog with a jet pack that was in love with a chicken.”

“Well, just try to dream of something like that, and you should be fine! Just tell the City Council that it’s Avant-garde abstract art. I’m sure they’ll love it!”

“And if they don’t?” Carlos asks.

There’s another pause. “They will,” Cecil says. His voice holds a tremble of worry and hiss of anger. “I’m sure they will.”

“… Right.” Carlos eyes his phone with some trepidation. “Thanks for the advice, Cecil. I’d better get going, I need to recalibrate the seismic monitor today.”

“Oh, of course! I won’t keep you from your science. Have a perfect day, Carlos!”

“Yeah, um. You too.” Carlos hangs up, cutting off what sounds like a squeal.


End file.
